What exactly does it mean? Well, for one thing, the most popular understanding is that it is simple expression with the hand of the prayer of St. Francis de Sales, “God be in my thoughts, upon my lips, and in my heart.” I think that even those who do not care for symbolic gestures have to admit, that is a very nice way of asking God to let us assimilate the Good News we are about to hear. And that prayer in turn is a shorthand for the very simple, very feeling way of meditation Francis de Sales taught and developed.
But this gesture, like so many elements of our tradition, has other layers and can be read in other ways. I want to call your attention to the first part of it: the crossing of the forehead.
What does that remind you of? Or what should it remind you of? I shall give you a hint: the last time you saw it was last Sunday. Yes, now you’ve got it: it was when Andrew made the sign of the cross in oil, as the sealing of the Baptism of [N], and said, M, you are sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever. After he had poured the Baptismal water on the very same spot.
Crossing the forehead should be for us a reminder of our Baptism. Martin Luther, it is said, used to make that sign every morning at his study and at any time he was frightened, saying, remember your Baptism, Martin. From outside that could look like a superstitious amulet against the Devil, but from within, it is a serious reminder of why the Christian person need not fear. Though I at the risk of sounding superstitious myself would guess that the Devil indeed does not care for the sign very much.
Remember your Baptism. What a fine, strong, lovely idea. Now of course Martin Luther could not in a sense remember his Baptism, as I cannot remember mine and probably you can’t remember yours–because the human memory actually registers for some reason around age three, and so many of us, Luther and I included, were Baptized long before that. No, what it means is remember the fact of your Baptism, and everything that entails. Remember that you are Baptized, and that you therefore have all the privileges, and all the duties, that accompany that primary Sacrament.
What exactly are those? The best way to answer that is simply to remind ourselves of what Baptism is. It has three aspects, and different people tend to understand it in one of these aspects.
First, have you noticed that very often some family will appear here with a candidate for Baptism, and you will have never seen them before? Why are they here? Well, by the time the Baptism happens, they are here for all the true reasons for Baptism, because Bishop Andrew has by then instructed them. Believe me, I know this, having done it many times myself. And by the way I used to worry about those who did not return. Then I realized that Baptism is in itself a form of evangelism, and that the Parable of the Sower and the Seed applies whenever that matter arises–we are the ones who strew the seed, and we know very well that it will not always take root, that’s no fault of ours.
But the interesting question is why did they come to us in the first place? They don’t come because they believe the things Bishop Andrew or I or Fr David will tell them, because they don’t know them yet, or only dimly.
They come because they have arrived at a hinge moment in life, and when sane human beings arrive at those moments, they crave the sacred. Here you are, a family with the jaw-dropping miracle of a new human life literally on your hands, and you just know you have got to do something about it, that this relates to something infinite and eternal and benevolent and wise. So you come to the Church. Not that nay of us here are infinite benevolent and wise–but we are certainly in touch with One who is.
The same is true for weddings, funerals, and to a lesser extent often with smaller crises like sensing one’s vocation in life, relocating to another state or country, facing health problems–all these things, positive or negative, open a window on eternity for most people and they feel the breeze. So here they come.
It’s intuitive, really. Pre-rational. They may say something like Oh we know the baby needs to be baptized because...and then say something they think they should say, but that’;s not why they are here. They are here because God is reaching them, and they know they need some help with that.
On the other hand, sometimes standing among the sponsors will be one of us. That’s what happened last week: there was Paul, our new master of acolytes, standing there grinning. Now I don’t know his family very well though I like them very much, so I don’t know what they were thinking. But I’m sure for Paul this wasn’t mainly just about “there’s a new baby and we’ve got to do something.” Paul I’m sure had in mind the two other meanings of Baptism–because he hears them and repeats them as you and I do all the time.
Meaning number two is this: Baptism is for the Remission of sins, or if you’re a rite 2 proficient, for the Forgiveness of sins–which is a better way of putting it for reasons too theologically complicated to go into right now but if you’re interested ask me later or e mail me. This is a part of the Creed: we acknowledge one Baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
That is so evident in the sacrament itself–a perfect illustration of that familiar definition of what a sacrament is an outward and visible sign. For what do we see? Someone pouring water on someone else. And we know what that means, we have known since before we could speak: it means washing.
I had a devout–offbeat and mischievous, but devout, typical Episcopalian–who had a coronary at 70 and was lying there in hospital when a rabid Evangelical Chaplain strode in, and, violating everything Fr. David teaches about pastoral style in the hospital room, asked, has Christ washed away your sins? My friend said yes he has, and we affirmed it almost 70 years ago when I was baptized, and it happened in Jerusalem almost 2000 years ago.
Now notice carefully the way he said this. He didn’t say my sins were washed away when I was baptized. He said, properly, that that was the outward sign of the inner reality. What about unbaptized persons? Can God forgive them and admit them into the kingdom? What a question.
But a few of those nonobservant Christian do come up with a version of that when a baby appears. They say, better have him or her Baptized, just in case he dies or something. To them I don’t know what Andrew says but I used to say, relax. Baptism isn’t insurance against that. I have it on good authority that the innocent child is the very model of the Kingdom of Heaven–a higher authority than any other. Let me explain by an analogy. On the other major sacrament John Macquarrie was asked, if the Host becomes the Body of Christ, what if someone takes the Host home and does vile things to it? You know what Macquarrie, arguably our strongest systematic theologian lately, said,? Well, if he is clever enough to get inside that wafer, God is certainly clever enough to get himself out again, and I wish I could reproduce his accent.
The point is, with Baptism, we are sure. In its waters, we are cleansed from sin–we say so in the great thanksgiving over the water.
But I mentioned three understandings of Baptism. The third is last, and best–even better than remitting sins, nice as that sounds form time to time–or if you’re like me throughout the day. The way to approach this third level is again that prayer over the water: listen to it now, while we’re in sermon mode instead of the joy of Baptism. It is one of the most beautiful things in the BCP, which is full of beautiful things.
We thank you father for the water of baptism. In it we are buried with Christ in his death. By it we share in his resurrection. through it we are reborn by the Holy Spirit. Baptism is new life and it is entry into the Kingdom promised and it is empowerment for service. It is in short what the catechism says it is: the sacrament by which God adopts us as his children and makes us members of Christ’s body, the Church, and inheritors of the kingdom of God. In one word, it is initiation. : the initial moment as a Christian person.
Jesus of Nazareth was around 30 years old when he received the Baptism of John, and our faith tells us that he had no sin to remit. Therefore the first two modes of Baptism would be meaningless for him. But this third but actually primary mode—new life in the kingdom and the initiation of ministry—is exactly what the event we celebrate today was. It was what happened. We do not know what Jesus did between his earliest childhood and that Baptism. Aside from one rather startling moment when he was twelve, the Gospels tell us precisely nothing. As usual, the Bible is laconic—it is strictly on a need-to-know basis, and it frustrates our curiosity. But we know exactly what happened next. For the next three years or thereabouts, he preached the kingdom and its new morals, he healed, he showed signs of power, he challenged the authorities and comforted the outcast, and then, in a span of about 2 months, he was handed over, he suffered, he died, he descended, he rose, and he ascended. Baptism was, quite clearly, a hinge moment in his own life.
Now today we heard the account of the Baptism in the Third Gospel. Or rather we almost did not hear it. Here is what I mean. Luke mentions the event almost in passing: when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, writes Luke, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. The vivid moment occurs not during but after the Baptism! That is when he hears the voice from heaven quoting Scripture: you are my Son whom I have loved always; today I have begotten you. The moment Jesus is proclaimed the Christ and the Son of God.
Luke is interested in what comes next-what follows the Baptism. Which makes sense. A hinge is important but for one thing only—for whatever lies over the threshold it lets a door open upon. Over the threshold of Baptism lies the privilege and the responsibilities of the Kingdom. Remember your Baptism. And when you do remember that you have stepped across that threshold into the Kingdom.
Our Baptism is parallel with Christ’s in every way. He is designated Son of God; we are, as the Catechism reminds us, adopted as God’s children. The Holy Spirit descends upon him; we are anointed with the same Spirit.
He began his career of service; we... well, the children have another marvelous exercise today to help them make the latter work in their own lives. They are to imagine the voice of God saying to them, you are my beloved adopted daughter, or son, and I am well pleased with you. And because you are my child, I call you to these acts of justice.
And then the children are to think of 3 concrete ways they can this week fulfill that last of the Baptismal vows, to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being. And as an example, here is what is offered:
1. To befriend the friendless kids at school.
2. To confront a sibling who tells ethnic jokes.
3. To donate time to a service club at school.
I myself think that’s sensational.
Now let me advocate an adult version of the same: remember your own Baptism. Remind yourself that you are God’s child and that God is very pleased with you and loves you. And invent three ways you can fulfill that vow this week. And I don’t have to wander far from the Intermediates’ curriculum for that:
1. Befriend some friendless person in your neighborhood, apartment, or workplace.
2. Confront someone who tells an ethnic or otherwise demeaning joke or story–pay attention, most of us are going to hear one of those this week.
3. And donate time to a service organization. You might start by exploring the website of the Episcopal Church and the Episcopal Public Policy Network.
And finally: there is that Dove. Luke carefully points out that the Dove is in bodily form. Listen, you know I teach medieval studies and so have shown that Dove to thousands of students in stained glass versions and tempera. But in those works of art the Dove is just a convenient symbol. Luke makes it more than that. The Spirit takes bodily form because Spirit in Christian teaching is not the vague and insubstantial thing it seems to be everywhere else: it is strong, it is more solid than matter. Gregory of Nyssa puts it very well as he says Baptism makes matter porous to Spirit.
